


Convention Wisdom

by Macdragon



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Conventions, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fluff, Johnlock Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-22
Updated: 2015-08-22
Packaged: 2018-04-16 14:01:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4627971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Macdragon/pseuds/Macdragon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John and Sherlock have to go undercover at a fan convention.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Convention Wisdom

**Author's Note:**

> Written for fanfic night at my local comic book shop. Also inspired by Gridlock.

John closed up his suitcase, shutting it firmly over the jumble of clothes inside. Looking around the hotel room, he did a final check for anything he might have left. But the room was back to being a generic, temporary space. Gone were the dirty clothes, the scientific equipment Sherlock had probably smuggled in illegally, their toothbrushes. It was like they had never been there. As homesick as he was for Baker Street, John felt a pang of regret. 

Sherlock had gone downstairs to settle checking out, and he would be gone for a few minutes. John sat down on the bed, thinking back on the past few days. 

***

The adventure began when they approached by a group of young women who were all attending a convention in the area. A fourth member of the group, Melody, had disappeared, and they were frantic. John had been surprised when Sherlock took the case, since it just sounded like the girl had gotten ill or bored and went home. But maybe it was the opportunity to dress up, because in order to properly investigate, they were going to have to attend the convention themselves. 

The convention centered on some tv show John had never heard of, and Sherlock agreed that it was outside of his field. But the three young ladies were more than happy to help them devise costumes. 

The next morning, they arrived at the hotel. Unfortunately, since the place was packed with fans, there was only a room with a single queen bed available. Sherlock seemed unperturbed, and John supposed they had been in less comfortable situations. So why was he more nervous about going to bed that night than he was about the pressing investigation?

He tried to put it out of his mind as they changed into their costumes--or cosplay, as the girls had called it. The character John was imitating was a cold, calculating, and conniving businessman with a secret heart of gold reserved for his bodyguard, or at least that's what the girls had said. John hadn't seen any episodes so he didn't know if that was true. 

He was frowning at his reflection in the mirror, thinking that the suit and tie didn't fit him properly, when Sherlock emerged from the bathroom in his outfit. The sight took his breath away. He had known what costume was planned, but he hadn't imagined that Sherlock would look so good in a leather jacket and motorcycle boots, the dog tags he had borrowed from John hanging from his neck. 

"You should have played the bodyguard," Sherlock griped. "You're the soldier."

"The bodyguard is tall and brunette, the businessman is short and blonde," John told him. "This way we don't have to dye our hair." 

"I suppose." Sherlock reached for his scarf, sighed, and put it down again. "Let's go."

They headed down to the hotel lobby, where convention goers were meeting for cocktails and snacks. The plan was to split up, each of them interviewing different people to see if they had seen any sign of the missing woman. 

Instead, as soon as they walked into the lobby, the fans pounced. 

"Oh my GOD!" The girl who darted in front of them reminded John of Molly, but that was probably just because she was wearing a lab coat. John didn't know what character she was supposed to be, but it didn't matter. "Your cosplay is perfect! Can I get a picture?"

Sherlock was staring at her like she had two heads. John recovered more quickly, smiling at her. "Sure, of course." He glanced at Sherlock, mentally ordering him to act friendly for the camera, just like their press conferences. Sherlock copied his smile, putting an arm around his waist and pulling him close. John didn't know how the photograph turned out, because he forgot everything but the feeling of Sherlock standing so close. 

"Awesome!" The girl nodded at her phone screen in approval. "Can I find you guys online?"

John almost told her the url of his blog before remembering they were undercover. 

"Sorry, no. We like to maintain an air of mystery." Sherlock gave her a wink, apparently fully into role now, and steered John away into the crowd. 

The rest of the night passed in a blur of photographs, squealing, and pretending like they had an excellent grasp of the characters they were supposed to be portraying. All evening, John and Sherlock acted wildly enthusiastic about being together, making up details about their life . Everyone else was in costume and pretending too, so it was easy. Even the touching. Sure, they touched all the time anyway--brushing against each other in the flat, pulling each other out of harms way on a case--but this was different. Like they were a couple. 

The fans knew how to party hard, and it was early in the morning by the time they retired to their hotel room. Fortunately, John was too tired, tipsy and happy to worry too much about the shared bed. He passed out right away…funny, he'd hadn't fallen asleep that fast in a long time. 

Unfortunately, it didn't last long. He woke with his heart racing, reaching for a gun that wasn't there, the images of Afghanistan already fading from his mind's eye. He wasn't sure exactly what the nightmare flashback had been, but he could still feel the fear, chilling him to the bone. 

He did know what had woken him up. Sherlock, kicking him in the shin. 

"Thanks." John sat up, rubbing his eyes. 

"You were making a lot of noise," Sherlock said dryly. "I'm trying to concentrate." He had his laptop on, and he tilted it so John could see the screen. 

John's heart started pounding again, not from terror this time. "Are you looking at porn?"

Sherlock glanced at the salacious illustration displayed on the computer. It was a picture of the businessman and bodyguard doing…things. "It would qualify as pornography, now that you bring it up," he said, shrugging. "But that's not the important thing. This blog belongs to businessguard69, a fan who was close friends with Melody. I don't know why I didn't check her tumblr feed sooner. I had to go far back in the notes, but I found many interactions with this user. So…tomorrow we need to find out if businessguard69 is at the convention." He kept scrolling, thankfully leaving the dirty art behind. 

"Great." John croaked. "How soon is morning?"

Sherlock waved at the glowing clock on the bedside table. Five AM. John had only slept for a couple of hours; Sherlock appeared not to have slept at all. But the convention wouldn't start back up again for hours, and he wasn't tired anymore. _I can't think of a few other things we can do…_ a little voice in his head whispered, before he viciously shoved it back down. 

Sherlock was looking at him with a small frown on his face, and John took a deep breath, steadying himself. They were just flatmates playacting, this wasn't the time to examine his conflicting feelings. "As long as you're awake," Sherlock said, "Why don't we watch an episode of the show? In case there are clues."

"You've just been taken in by the fangirls!" John said, but he moved closer so he could see the screen while Sherlock brought up the episode. They ended up watching far past sunrise, ordering room service so they could have breakfast in bed and continue binging the show. By the time the convention opened again, they were even more prepared to take on the roles they had been assigned. 

***

They headed for the vendor room, mingling with the artists and cosplayers. There were several more examples of the type of work John had seen last night, and it was making him blush. Sherlock was clearly only feigning interest in the art as he wove through the crowd, searching for their target. 

There was a cluster of girls around one table, and looking over their shoulders, John realized it was the exact same artist businessguard69 had posted on her blog. Unfortunately, since the fans were all so engrossed in the artist, no one was paying enough attention to them to ask questions. "I guess we should move our investigation elsewhere." 

"Don't give up so easily, John." Sherlock put a hand on his shoulder, turning so that John faced him. "I need you to kiss me now, in front of everyone."

"Wha--" But he never finished the question. Sherlock was already leaning towards him, taking John's face between his hands. There was a split second of hesitation, and John closed the gap. It was all for show--it was true, everyone was looking at them. But the crowd vanished from his mind the moment their lips touched. And in that moment, John realized that he had been waiting for this for a very long time. 

The kiss only lasted a few seconds, and John couldn't keep the disappointed expression off his face when Sherlock moved away. Sherlock was smiling, but that was just acting. There was no time to dwell on what was just happened. Now they were the ones being swamped, and it gave them ample opportunity to talk to all of the con goers. John barely absorbed what was happening, in a daze until they finally uncovered the secret behind the case. 

"Simple, really," Sherlock summarized the case as they took a break outside the hotel. It was raining, the mist cool against John's face. He had almost forgotten about the outside world. "Melody and businessguard69, real name Caroline, met Melody online. Internet relationships seem so pointless to me but…They were in love, so they decided to meet here at the convention and disappear together. In the end Melody was too afraid of her family's judgment, so she ran away instead."

"It's sad, not simple," John said. 

"I should have guessed sooner," Sherlock said, ignoring his comment. "I can't believe I fell for a crime of passion. It's so elementary. I'm going to tell Lestrade not to put my name on this one." 

***

So the case was closed, and their purpose here was done. Now he was waiting for Sherlock, and it had been a suspiciously long time. Wondering what the detective was distracted by now, he headed downstairs. 

After some searching, he found Sherlock in the room that had been set aside for socializing, sitting at a table playing some sort of board game. He was holding cards and he seemed engrossed in the game. He was certainly too involved to notice John hovering at the door. John remained there for some time, observing Sherlock. He was sitting with one leg up on the chair, the other stretched out in front of him, in a pose that had to be uncomfortable but which John knew meant he was concentrating. And the fierce look on his face just meant he was having a good time. Strangely, Sherlock seemed to be having fun. 

"I thought we were checking out," John said, finally coming up to the table. "Sorry to interrupt," he added to the people seated around Sherlock. They were all dressed in outfits that he would have thought were normal clothes yesterday, but now he knew they were cosplay. 

"Right, we were supposed to check out. But then I got sucked into this--it's a fantastic puzzle, it took me a good thirty minutes to figure out how to win," Sherlock said cheerfully. "Can't leave now that the game's afoot." 

John felt like crying, suddenly. "I need to talk to you." Sherlock was dense, but not so much that he didn't notice the seriousness in John's tone. 

"Rematch in a few minutes?" Sherlock told his new friends, rising from the table and following John out into the hall. 

"Do you have new information on the case?" Sherlock asked when they were outside. 

"I thought the case was closed," John said, taken off guard. He was already jittery enough, and he hadn't been expecting that. Sherlock never returned to old cases. 

"Not really. We know what was behind her disappearance, but we haven't found Melody yet. I believe she and Caroline have things to settle, and I hate unfinished business." 

"Right." John felt his spirits rising at the prospect of continuing the investigation. "So we're staying here?"

Sherlock shook his head. "As much as I'd like to, we need to get on Melody's trail. There is work to be done."

"Oh," As fast as the optimism had come, it was fading again. "I guess I'll go finish packing."

"You didn't tell me what was one your mind." Sherlock stepped in his path, crossing his arms. 

John took a deep breath. It was now or never. This had been so easy when they were playing a part, but now the words came tumbling out of his mouth too fast, and he was tripping over them. "I just--I really enjoyed last night. And this morning. I want to keep doing this. But not really. I don't want to be a character. I want what we had, but for real. But I know you don't. So let's just get back to work, like you said. At least I've been honest." 

Sherlock laughed. John turned away, the rejection stinging even though he had expected it. But then he felt an arm around his waist, pulling him back. "I deduced that already."

John looked up at him in disbelief as Sherlock continued. "But it wasn't until last night that I realized how much I agree. Watching that show, I saw how pointless it was to continue acting. The characters in the show refuse to give in to their feelings, even though they are obviously in love, as we've learned from several of our fellow convention attendees. I thought that loving you would cloud my judgment, but now I see it's the opposite. John…I think it's time to make this canon, as they say."

John didn't know what to say. So he didn't say anything. He kissed Sherlock again, and this time it was real.


End file.
